GIFT  OF 
Mrs.    I.   M.   Aiken 


'32 


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Frontispiece 


A    JUG    OF    WINE,    A    LOAF    OF    BREAD — AND    THOU 


I  The  Rubaiyat  || 

^1         Omar  Khayyam  j^ 


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OMAR  KHAYYAM 

An  address  delivered  ly  John  Hay,  December  <?,  18ffT^ 
at  the  dinner  of  the  Omar  Khayydm  Club,  London : 

T  CAN  never  forget  my  emotions  when  I 
first  saw  Fitz Gerald's  translations  of  the 
Quatrains.  Keats,  in  his  sublime  ode  on 
Chapman's  Homer,  has  described  the  sensa- 
tion once  for  all: 

"Then  felt  I  like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 
When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken.'* 

The  exquisite  beauty,  the  faultless  form, 
the  singular  grace  of  those  amazing  stanzas, 
were  not  more  wonderful  than  the  depth  and 
breadth  of  their  profound  philosophy,  their 
knowledge  of  life,  their  dauntless  courage, 
their  serene  facing  of  the  ultimate  problems 
of  life  and  death.     Of  course,  the  doubt  did 

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Omar  Khayyam. 


not  spare  me,  which  has  assailed  many  as 
ignorant  as  I  was  of  the  literature  of  the  lAl 

East,  whether  it  was  the  poet  or  the  trans- 
lator to  whom  was  due  this  splendid  result. 
Was  it,  in  fact,  a  reproduction  of  an  antique 
song,  or  a  mystification  of  a  great  modern, 
careless  of  fame  and  scornful  of  his  time?  ■ 

Could   it   be   possible  that   in  the  eleventh  • 

century,  so  far  away  as  Khorassan,  so  accom-  I  ^ 

plished  a  man  of  letters   lived,  with  such  i^\ 

distinction,  such  breadth,  such  insight,  such 
calm  disillusions,  such  cheerful  and  jocund 
despair  ?     Was  this  "  Weltschmerz,"  which  \f^ 

we  thought  a  malady  of  our  day,  endemic 
in  Persia  in   1100?     My  doubt  only  lasted  - 

until  I  came  upon  a  literal  translation  of  the  I 

E-ubaiyat,  and  I  saw  that  not  the  least  re-  I 

markable  quality  of  FitzGerald's  poem  was 
its  fidelity  to  the  original.  In  short,  Omar 
was  a  FitzGerald,  or  FitzGerald  was  a  rein-  | 

carnation  of  Omar.     It   is  not  to  the  dis-  |/|\ 

advantage  of  the  latter  poet  that  he  followed 
go  closely  in  the  footsteps  of  the  earlier.    A 


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g;i^i^j^i^.'i.^;^^.;^«i 


f!     " 

I  Omar  Khayyam, 


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man  of  extraordinary  genius  had   appeared 
^ClI  in  the  world,  had  sung  a  song  of  incompar- 

vT/l  ^^^^  beauty  and  power  in  an  environment  no 

longer   worthy   of  him,    in   a   language   of 
narrow    range ;    for    many   generations   the 
fl  song  was  virtually  lost ;  then,  by  a  miracle 

I  of  creation,  a   poet,  a  twin  brother  in    the 

jylj  spirit  to  the  first,  was  born,  who  took  up  the 

\l/|  forgotten  poem  and  sang  it  anew  with  all  its 

original  melody  and  force,  and  all  the  accumu- 
lated refinement  of  ages  of  art.     It  seems  to 
me  idle  to  ask  which  was  the  greater  master ; 
jj^i  each    seems    greater    than   his    work.     The 

I  song  is  like  an  instrument  of  precious  work- 

manship and  marvelous  tone,  which  is  worth- 


« 


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less  in  common  hands,  but  when  it  falls,  at 


yjJI  long  intervals,  into  the  hands  of  the  supreme 

#  J  master,  it   yields  a  melody  of  transcendent 

TW\*  enchantment  to  all    that  havo  ears  to  hear. 

VI/  I  If  we  look  at  the  sphere  of  influence  of  the 

two  poets,  there  is  no  longer  any  comparison. 

Omar  sang   to  a   half  barbarous  province; 

FitzGerald  to  the  world.      Wherever  the 


•I« 


S5:^'l!^''.^s'l^S^!^&S6  5*5 


I 


Omar  Khayydm, 


English  speech  is  spoken  or  read,  the  Rubai- 
yat    have    taken    their   place   as   a   classic. 
There  is  not  a  hill-post  in  India,  nor  a  vil' 
lage  in  England,  where  there  is  not  a  coterie  to 
whom  Omar  Khayyam  is  a  familiar  friend 
and  a  bond  of  union.     In  America  he  has 
an  equal   following,   in   many  regions   and 
conditions.     In  the  Eastern  States  his  adepts 
,         form  an  esoteric  sect ;  the  beautiful  volume 
^^1         of  drawings  by  Mr.  Vedder  is  a  centre  of  de- 
VT/I         light  and  suggestion  wherever  it  exists.     In 
«  •         the   cities   of  the   West   you    will   find   the 
fmi         Quatrains  one  of  the  most  thoroughly  read 
V/l         books  in  any  club  library.     I  heard  them 
quoted  once  in  one  of  the  most  lonely  and 
desolate  spots  of  the  high  Rockies.     We  had 
been   camping    on   the    Great   Divide,   our 
"  roof  of  the  world,"  where  in  the  space  of 
a  few  feet  you  may  see  two  springs,  one  send- 
ing its  waters   to   the   Polar  solitudes,  the 
other  to   the   eternal   Carib  summer.     One 
morning,  at   sunrise,  as  we   were   breaking 
camp,   I   was  startled   to  hear  one  of  our 


VI 


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f  j        '"■ '  '        '"'  '"W 

j^l  Omar  Khayydm.  !,yj 

^'!  party,  a  frontiersman  born,  intoning  these  2  'S- 

^1  words  of  sombre  majesty:  ffyj 

ITJi  iw 

^  "  •*'Ti8  but  a  Tent  where  takes  his  one  day's  rest  Z  "s- 

ANJ  A  Sultan  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest ;  li^ 

IT] I  The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Ferrdsh  IV I  / 

\i/5  Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  Guest."  ■  M/ 

•  I  thought  that  sublime  setting  of  primeval  •ffj 

I  forest  and  pouring  canyon  was  worthy  of  the  |^ 

^1  lines ;  I  am  sure  the  dewless,  crystalline  air  |^ 

JTJi  never   vibrated   to  strains  of  more   solemn  jlT) 

Wl  music.     Certainly,   our   poet   can   never    be  l-g, 

^1  numbered  among  the  great  popular  writers  of  •f^i 

ITjl  all  time.     He  has   told  no   story;   he   has  |\T/ 

^  !  never  unpacked  his  heart  in  public ;  he  has  J  ^ 

jj^f  never  thrown  the  reins  on  the  neck  of  the  !« 

\l/l  winged  horse,  and  let  his  imagination  carry  |\f/ 

♦  J  him  where  it  listed.     "Ah  !  the  crowd  must  j^ 

jOTxt  have  emphatic  warrant,"  as  Browning  sang.  *{¥) 

\|/ 1  Its  suffrages  are  not  for  the  cool,  collected  ob-  I W 

S  j  server,  whose  eyes  no  glitter  can  dazzle,  no  jj 

JYJ !  mist  suffuse.     The  many  cannot  but  resent  j 


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:.!   if 


Omar  Khayydm, 

that  air  of  lofty  intelligence,  that  pale  and 
subtle  smile.  But  he  will  hold  a  place  for- 
ever among  that  limited  number  who,  like 
Lucretius  and  Epicurus — without  rage  or 
defiance,  even  without  unbecoming  mirth — 
look  deep  into  the  tangled  mysteries  of 
things;  refuse  credence  to  the  absurd,  and 
allegiance  to  arrogant  authority ;  sufficiently 
conscious  of  fallibility  to  be  tolerant  of  all 
opinions ;  with  a  faith  too  wide  for  doctrine 
and  a  benevolence  untrammeled  by  creed; 
too  wise  to  be  wholly  poets,  and  yet  too 
surety  poets  to  be  implacably  wise. 


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OMAR  KHAYYAM 

THE  ASTRONOMER  POET  OF  PERSIA 


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OMAE  KHAYYAM, 

THE  ASTEONOMER-POET  OF  PEESIA. 


Omar  Khayyam  was  born  at  I^aish^r 
pur,  in  Khorasan,  in  the  latter  half  of 
our  Eleventh,  and  died  within  the  First 
Quarter  of  our  Twelfth  Century.  The 
slender  Story  of  his  Life  is  curiously 
twined  about  that  of  two  other  very  con- 
siderable Figures  in  their  Time  and 
Country:  one  of  whom  tells  the  Story 
of  all  Three.  This  was  Mzdm-ul-Mulk, 
Yizyr  to  Alp  Arslan  the  Son,  and  Malik 
3hah  the  Grandson,  of  Toghrul  Beg  the 
Tartar,  who  had  wrested  Persia  from 
the  feeble  Successon  of  Mahmud  the 
Great,  and  founded  that  Seljukian  Dy- 

II 


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#• 


Omar  Khayyam. 

nasty  which  finally  roused  Europe  into 
the  Crusades.  This  Mzam-ul-Mulk,  in 
his  Wasiyat — or  Testament — which  he 
wrote  and  left  as  a  Memorial  for  future 
Statesmen — relates  the  following,  as 
quoted  in  the  Calcutta  Review,  !N"o.  59, 
from  Mirkhond's  History  of  the  Assas- 
sins : — 

"  *  One  of  the  greatest  of  the  wise  men  of 
Khorassan  was  the  Imdm  Mowaffak  of  Na- 
ishaptir,  a  man  highly  honoured  and  rever- 
enced,— may  God  rejoice  his  soul ;  his  illus- 
trious years  exceeded  eighty-five,  and  it  was 
the  universal  belief  that  every  boy  who  read 
the  Koran  or  studied  the  traditions  in  his 
presence,  would  assuredly  attain  to  honour 
and   happiness.     For   this   cause   did   my 

fl  father  send  me  from  Ttis  to  Naishaptir  with 

I  Abd-us-samad,   the   doctor   of  law,  that  I 

^j  might  employ  myself  in  study  and  learn- 

(yjl  ing  under  the  guidance  of  that  illustrious 

1    _  __"     _  __ 


s* 


jS'^^1^Sl'2^'l'^^!;3§'I'§6'.'§&ff 


I 


Omar  Khayyam. 

teacher.  Towards  me  he  ever  turned  an 
eye  of  favour  and  kindness,  and  as  his 
pupil,  I  felt  for  him  extreme  affection  and 
devotion,  so  that  I  passed  four  years  in  his 
service.  When  I  first  came  there,  I  found 
two  other  pupils  of  mine  own  age  newly 
arrived,  Hakim  Omar  Khayydm,  and  the 
ill-fated  Ben  Sabbah.  Both  were  endowed 
with  sharpness  of  wit  and  the  highest  natu* 
ral  powers;  and  we  three  formed  a  close 
friendship  together.  When  the  Im^m  rose 
from  his  lectures,  they  used  to  join  me,  and 
we  repeated  to  each  other  the  lessons  we 
had  heard.  Now  Omar  was  a  native  of 
Naishdptir,  while  Hasan  Ben  Sabbah 's  father 
was  one  Ali,  a  man  of  austere  life  and  prac- 
tice, but  heretical  in  his  creed  and  doctrine. 
One  day  Hasan  said  to  me  and  to  Khayydm, 
*  It  is  a  universal  belief  that  the  pupils  of 
the  Imdm  Mowafiak  will  attain  to  fortune. 
Now,  even  if  we  all  do  not  attain  thereto, 
without  doubt  one  of  us  will ;   what  then 


13 


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Sx^l^".'^'!^^*^*^'^^'  55 


Omar  Khayyto. 

shall  be  our  mutual  pledge  and  bond?' 
We  answered,  *Be  it  what  you  please.' 
*  Well,'  he  said, '  let  us  make  a  vow,  that  to 
whomsoever  this  fortune  falls,  he  shall  share  l/jy 

it  equally  with  the  rest,  and  reserve  no  pre-  j( 

eminence  for  himself.'  '  Be  it  so,'  we  both 
replied,  and  on  those  terms  we  mutually 
pledged  our  words.    Years  rolled  on,  and  I  | 

went  from  Khorassan  to  Transoxiana,  and  ||^ 

wandered  to  Ghazni  and  Cabul ;  and  when  jFt] 

I  returned,  I  was  invested  with  office,  and  J  j£ 

rose  to  be  administrator  of  afiairs  during  l<^ 

the  Sultanate  of  Sultan  Alp  Arslan.'  | 

"  He  goes  on  to  state  that  years  passed  by,  j 

and  both  his  old  school-friends  found  him 
out,  and  came  and  claimed  a  share  in  his 


14 


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vow.     The  Vizier  was  generous  and  kept  I 


good  fortune,  according  to  the  school-day  \fw{ 

iiW 


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his  word.  Hasan  demanded  a  place  in  the 
government,  which  the  Sultan  granted  at 
the  Vizier's  request ;  but  discontented  with 
a  gradual  rise,  he  plunged  into  the  maze  of  |^ 


I' 

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11 

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OF  THE  MOUNTAINS,  and  spread  terror 
through  the  Mohammedan  world  ;  and  it  is 
^  I  yet  disputed   whether    the  word  AssassiUj 

IT/ I  which  they  have  left  in  the  language  of 

modern  Europe  as  their  dark  memorial,  is 
derived  from  the  hashish  or  opiate  of  hemp- 
leaves  (the  Indian  bhang),  with  which  they 


fi 

/^i  aaaddened  themselves  to  the  sullen  pitch  of 

ft'  .5 


Si 

J^l  Omar  Khayyam.  I 

■  -  ■  intrigue  of  an  oriental  court,  and,  failing  in         -  * 

a  base  attempt  to  supplant  his  benefactor, 
he  was   disgraced   and    fell.     After    many 
I  mishaps   and  wanderings,   Hasan    became 

ITJi  the  head  of  the  Persian  sect  of  the  Isma- 

V/j  ilianSf — a  party  of  fanatics  who  had   long 

44»l  murmured  in  obscurity,  but  rose  to  an  evil 

yjy  I  eminence  under  the  guidance  of  his  strong 

•^  -  and  evil  will.    In  a.d.  1090  he  seized  the 

castle  of  Alamtit,  in  the  province  of  Rtidbar, 
which  lies  in  the  mountainous  tract,  south 
of  the  Caspian  Sea ;  and  it  was  from  this 
mountain  home  he  obtained  that  evil  celeb- 
"K  I  rity  among  the  Crusaders  as  the  OLD  MAN 


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Omar  Xhayyam. 

oriental  desperation,  or  from  the  name  of 
the  founder  of  the  dynasty,  whom  we  have 
seen  in  his  quiet  collegiate  days,  at  Naisha- 
ptir.  One  of  the  countless  victims  of  the 
Assassin's  dagger  was  Niz4m-ul-Mulk  him- 
self, the  old  school-boy  friend.* 

"  Omar  Khayydm  also  came  to  the  Vizier 
to  claim  the  share,  but  not  to  ask  for  title 
or  office.  ^  The  greatest  boon  you  can  con- 
fer on  me,'  he  said,  ^  is  to  let  me  live  in  a 
comer  under  the  shadow  of  your  fortune,  to 
spread  wide  the  advantages  of  Science,  and 
pray  for  your  long  life  and  prosperity.'  The 
Vizier  tells  us,  that,  when  he  found  Omar 
was  really  sincere  in  his  refusal,  he  pressed 

*  Some  of  Omar's  Rub£iydt  warn  us  of  the  danger 
of  Greatness,  the  instability  of  Fortune,  and  while 
advocating  Charity  to  all  Men,  recommending  us  to 
be  too  intimate  with  none.  Attar  makes  Nizam-ul- 
Mulk  use  the  very  words  of  his  friend  Omar  [Eub. 
xxviii.]  "When  Mzam-ul-Mulk  was  in  the  agony 
(of  Death)  he  said,  '  O  God  !  I  am  passing  away  in 
the  hand  of  the  Wind.'  " 


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Omar  KbayyEm. 


I 

-»     V 


him  no  further,  but  granted  him  a  yearly 
pension  of  twelve  hundred  miihkdXs  of  gold, 
from  the  treasury  of  Naishdptir. 

"  At  Naishdptir  thus  lived  and  died  Omar 
Khayydm,  *  busied,'  adds  the  Vizier,  4n 
winning  knowledge  of  every  kind,  and  espe- 
cially in  Astronomy,  wherein  he  attained  to 
a  very  high  pre-eminence.  Under  the  Sul- 
tanate of  Malik  Shah,  he  came  to  Merv,  and 
obtained  great  praise  for  his  proficiency  in 
science,  and  the  Sultan  showered  favours 
upon  him.' 

"  When  Malik  Shah  determined  to  reform 
the  calendar,  Omar  was  one  of  the  eight 
learned  men  employed  to  do  it ;  the  result 
was  the  Jaldli  era  (so  called  from  Jcdal-Vr 
din,  one  of  the  king's  names) — *  a  computa- 
tion of  time,'  says  Gibbon, '  which  surpasses 
the  Julian,  and  approaches  the  accuracy  of 
the  Gregorian  style.'  He  is  also  the  author 
of  some  astronomical  tables,  entitled  Ziji- 
Malikshdhl,"  and  the  French  have  lately 


17 


i 


JSf^^^" 


»l« 


republished  and  translated  an  Arabic  Trea- 
tise of  his  on  Algebra. 

"  His  Takhallus  or  poetical  name  (Khay- 
ydm)  signifies  a  Tent-maker,  and  he  is  said 
to  have  at  one  time  exercised  that  trade, 
perhaps  before  Nizam-ul-Mulk's  generosity 
raised  him  to  independence.  Many  Persian 
poets  similarly  derive  their  names  from 
their  occupations;  thus  we  have  Attir  *a 
druggist,'  Assdr  *  an  oil  presser,^  etc.*  Omar 
himself  alludes  to  his  name  in  the  following 
whimsical  lines : — 

*  Khayyam,  who  stitched  the  tents  of  science, 

Has  fallen    in  grief's    furnace  and  been  suddenly 

burned ; 
The  shears  of  Fate  have  cut  the  tent  ropes  of  his  life. 
And  the  broker  of  Hope  has  sold  him  for  nothing  I' 

"We  have  only  one  more  anecdote  to 
give  of  his  Life,  and  that  relates  to  the  close ; 

*  Though  all  these,  like  our  Smiths,  Archers^ 
Millers,  Fletchers,  etc.,  may  simply  retain  the  Sur- 
name of  an  hereditary  calling. 


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«; 


Omar  E[hayy4m 

it  is  told  in  the  anonymous  preface  which 
is  sometimes  prefixed  to  his  poems ;  it  has 
been  printed  in  the  Persian  in  the  appendix 
to  Hyde's  Veterum  Persarum  Religio,  p.  499; 
and  D'  Herbelot  alludes  to  it  in  his  Biblio- 
th^que,  under  Khiam  ;* 

"  *  It  is  written  in  the  chronicles  of  the  an- 
[ji  cients  that  this  King  of  the  Wise,  Omar  i 


If 

i 

I 

Khayydm,  died  at  Naishdptir  in  the  year  ||^ 

of  the  Hegira,  517  (a.d.  1123);  in  science  jfTl 

he  was  unrivalled, — the  very  paragon  of  his  j^ 

age.'     Khw^jah  Nizdmi  of  Samarcand,  who  |JJ^ 

I          was  one  of  his  pupils,  relates  the  following  MJ 

I          story :  '  I  often  used  to  hold  conversations  '  j  K 

jt          with  my  teacher,  Omar  Khayyam,  in  a  gar-  |j**^ 

I          den;  and  one  day  he  said  to  me,  *My  tomb  jj 


i 

I  shall  be  in  a  spot  where  the  north  wind  1^ 

j  may  scatter  roses  over  it.'    I  wondered  at  i|y|/ 

I  *  "  Philosophe  Musulman  qui  a  vdcu  en  Odeur  de 

•  Saintet^  dans  la  Fin  du  premier  et  le  Commencement 

I  du    second    Si^cle,"  no  part  of  which,    except    the             •  ^^ 

I  ^Philosophe,"  can  apply  to  ov/r  Khayydm.                             "f|K 

if 
1      _  _._  Jf 


If 


B'^l^si^^'l^^^t^&^-JS 


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Omar  Khayyam. 

the  words  he  spake,  but  I  knew  that  his 
were  no  idle  words.*  Years  after,  when  I 
chanced  to  revisit  Naishdptir,  I  went  to  his 

*  The  Rashness  of  the  Words,  according  to  D'Her- 
belot,  consisted  in  being  so  opposed  to  those  in  the 
Kordn  :  "No  Man  knows  where  he  shall  die." — This 
Story  of  Omar  reminds  me  of  another  so  naturally — 
and,  when  one  remembers  how  wide  of  his  humble 
mark  the  noble  sailor  aimed — so  pathetically  told  by 
Captain  Cook — not  by  Doctor  Hawkesworth — in  hia 
second  voyage.  When  leaving  Ulietea,  **  Oreo's  last 
request  was  for  me  to  return.  When  he  saw  he 
could  not  obtain  that  promise,  he  asked  the  name  oi 
my  Marai — Burying-place.  As  strange  a  question  as 
this  was,  I  hesitated  not  a  moment  to  tell  him  '  Step- 
ney,' the  parish  in  which  I  live  when  in  London.  I 
was  made  to  repeat  it  several  times  over  till  they 
could  pronounce  it;  and  then  *  Stepney  Marai  no 
Tootee'  was  echoed  through  a  hundred  mouths  at 
once.  I  afterwards  found  the  same  question  had  been 
put  to  Mr.  Forster  by  a  man  on  shore  ;  but  he  gave  a 
different,  and  indeed  more  proper  answer^  by  saying, 
*No  man  who  used  the  sea  could  say  where  he  should 
be  buried.' " 

20 

i  _     . 


I  Omar  Khayydm. 


i 


final  resting-place,  and  lo  I  it  was  just  out- 
side a  garden,  and  trees  laden  with  fruit 
stretched  their  boughs  over  the  garden  wall, 
and  dropped  their  flowers  upon  his  tomb, 
so  as  the  stone  was  hidden  under  them/  " 

Thus  far — ^without  fear  of  Trespass — 
J I  from  the  Calcutta  Review.     The  writer 

of  it,  on  reading  in  India  this  story  of 
Omar's  Grave,  was  reminded,  he  says, 
of  Cicero's  Account  of  finding  Archim- 
edes' Tomb  at  Syracuse,  buried  in  grass 
and  weeds.  I  think  Thorwaldsen  de» 
sired  to  have  roses  grow  over  him;  a 
wish  religiously  fulfilled  for  him  to  the 
present  day,  I  believe.  However,  to  re- 
turn to  Omar. 

Though  the  Sultan  "  shower'd  Favour? 
upon  him,"  Omar's  Epicurean  Audacity 
of  Thought  and  Speech  caused  him  to 
be  regarded  askance  in  his  own  Time 


21 


••5- 


gf^^aifei'^feiife'iifei^^^^lig 


;.|.$^.i<3ig.l»^^%^t^&*;^S  5.5 


Omar  Khayyam. 

and  Country.  He  is  said  to  have  been 
especially  hated  and  dreaded  by  the 
Siifis,  whose  Practice  he  ridiculed,  and 
whose  Faith  amounts  to  little  more  than 
his  own  when  stript  of  the  Mysticism 
and  formal  recognition  of  Islariiism  under 
which  Omar  would  not  hide.  Their 
Poets,  including  Hafiz,  who  are  (with  the 
exception  of  Firdausi)  the  most  consider- 
able in  Persia,  borrowed  largely,  indeed, 
of  Omar's  material,  but  turning  it  to  a 
mystical  Use  more  convenient  to  Them- 
selves and  the  People  they  addressed;  a 
People  quite  as  quick  of  Doubt  as  of 
Belief;  as  keen  of  Bodily  Sense  as  of  In- 
tellectual; and  delighting  in  a  cloudy 
composition  of  both,  in  which  they  could 
float  luxuriously  between  Heaven  and 
Earth,  and  this  "World  and  the  Next,  on 
the  Tarings  of  a  poetical  expression,  that 

22 


I 


w 


K^5«^^^*feis^'^^^*» 


Omar  Khayyam. 

might  serve  indifferently  for  either.  Omar 
was  too  honest  of  Heart  as  well  as  of 
Head  for  this.  Having  failed  (however 
mistakenly)  of  finding  any  Providence 
but  Destiny,  and  any  World  but  This,  he 
set  about  making  the  most  of  it ;  prefer- 
ring rather  to  soothe  the  Soul  through 
the  Senses  into  Acquiescence  with  Things 
as  he  saw  them,  than  to  perplex  it  with 
vain  disquietude  after  what  they  might  he. 
It  has  been  seen,  however,  that .  his 
Worldly  Ambition  was  not  exorbitant; 
and  he  very  likely  takes  a  humorous  or 
perverse  pleasure  in  exalting  the  gratifi- 
cation of  Sense  above  that  of  the  Intel- 
lect, in  which  he  must  have  taken  great 
delight,  although  it  failed  to  answer  the 
Questions  in  which  he,  in  common  with 
all  men,  was  most  vitally  interested. 
For  whatever  Reason,  however,  Omar, 


23 


K<^^' 


•|i; 


I 

i 


II 


i 


Omar  Khayydm. 


as  before  said,  has  never  been  popular  in 
his  own  Country,  and  therefore  has  been 
but   scantily   transmitted    abroad.      The 
jtt»!  MSS.  of  his  Poems,  mutilated  beyond  the 

Vj/j  average  Casualties  of  Oriental  Transcrip- 

fl  tion,  are  so  rare  in  the  East  as  scarce  to 

I  have  reacht  Westward  at  all,  in  spite  of 

all  the  acquisitions  of  Arms  and  Science. 
There  is  no  copy  at  the  India  House,  none 
^  •  at  the  Bibliotheque  Imperiale  of  Paris. 

«J  We  know  but  of  one  in  England:  "No, 

\l/ j  140  of  the  Ouseley  MSS.  at  the  Bodleian, 

&  i  written  at  Shiraz,  a.d.  1460.     This  con- 

tains but  168  Rubdiyat.  One  in  the  Asi- 
^Y  atic  Society's  Library  at  Calcutta  (of 
which  we  have  a  copy)  contains  (and  yet 
incomplete)  516,  though  swelled  to  that 
by  all  kinds  of  Repetition  and  Corrup- 
tion. So  Yon  Hammer  speaks  of  his 
copy  as  containing  about  200,  while  Dr. 


24 


•I«^fc>»l«S 


fi 


'l<afe:5'i'; 


Oi 


i 


! 


Omar  Khayyam. 

Sprenger  catalogues  the  Lucknow  MS. 
at  double  that  number.*  The  Scribes, 
too,  of  the  Oxford  and  Calcutta  MSS. 
seem  to  do  their  Work  under  a  sort  of 
Protest;  each  beginning  with  a  Tetras- 
tich (whether  genuine  or  not),  taken  out 
of  its  alphabetical  order ;  the  Oxford  with 
one  of  Apology;  the  Calcutta  with  one 
of  Expostulation,  supposed  (says  a  E'otice 
prefixed  to  the  MS.)  to  have  risen  from  a 
Dream,  in  which  Omar's  mother  asked 
about  his  future  fate.  It  may  be  ren- 
dered thus : — 

**  O  Thou  who  bum'st  in  Heart  for  those  who  bum 
In  Hell,  whose  fires  thyself  shall  feed  in  turn ; 

*  "Since  this  Paper  was  written"  (adds  the  Re- 
viewer in  a  note),  "we  have  met  with  a  copy  of  a 
very  rare  Edition,  printed  at  Calcutta  in  1836.  This 
contains  438  Tetrastichs,  with  an  Appendix  contaiih 
iBg  54  others  not  found  in  some  MSS." 


25 


jTJi  Umar  ilhayyam.  ^rtr. 

,jS  I  How  long  be  crying,  *  Mercy  on  them,  God  !•  j  S* 

JYjj  Why,  who  art  Thou  to  teach,  and  He  to  learn f*  *iTi 

*  J  The  Bodleian  Quatrain  pleads  Panthe-  ♦  •»- 

rlTij  ism  by  way  of  Justification : —  !fl^ 

•fc  I  *'  If  I  myself  upon  a  looser  Creed  •  •£• 

fl  Have  loosely  strung  the  Jewel  of  Good  deed,  ffVt 

I  Let  this  one  thing  for  my  Atonement  plead :  |\!/ 

^  I  That  One  for  Two  I  never  did  mis-read."  J  J^ 

ml  The  Reviewer,  to  whom  I  owe  the  Par-  jlTi 


i 
i 


ticulars   of  Omar's   Life,  concludes  his 


V|  uuuiars    ui    wiiiar »    ±jiie,    couciuues    nis  st^ 

^1  Review  by  comparing  him  with  Lucre-  |[T] 

^'!  tins,  both   as   to   natural    Temper    and  i  &, 

fitil  Genius,  and  as  acted  upon  by  the  Cir-  tfif^ 

\l/|  cumstances  in  which  he  lived.     Both  in-  f\V 

4^  I  deed  were   men  of  subtle,  strong,  and  |M 

\l/ 1  cultivated  Intellect,  fine  Imagination,  and  %\JJ 

§1  Hearts  passionate  for  Truth  and  Justice;  j^ 

•  who  justly  revolted  from  their  Country's  i^j 

&  I  false  Religion,  and  false,  or  foolish,  De-  !  ^ 

fm\  votion  to.it ;  but  who  yet  fell  short  of  re-  Iflff 

f! i 


•*'^^'*'^^^*l!^^l^J!^t^B'!§6$i 


Omar  Khayyam. 

placing  what  they  subverted  by  such 
better  Hajpe  as  others,  with  no  better 
Revelation  to  guide  them,  had  yet  made 
a  Law  to  themselves.  Lucretius,  indeed, 
with  such  material  as  Epicurus  furnished, 
satisfied  himself  with  the  theory  of  so 
vast  a  machine  fortuitously  constructed, 
and  acting  by  a  Law  that  implied  no  Leg- 
islator ;  and  so  composing  himself  into  a 
Stoical  rather  than  Epicurean  severity  of 
Attitude,  sat  down  to  contemplate  the 
mechanical  Drama  of  the  Universe  which 
he  was  part  Actor  in;  himself  and  all 
about  him  (as  in  his  own  sublime  descrip- 
tion of  the  Roman  Theatre)  discoloured 
with  the  lurid  reflex  of  the  Curtain  sus- 
pended between  the  Spectator  and  the 
Sun.  Omar,  more  desperate,  or  more 
careless  of  any  so  complicated  System  as 
resulted  in  nothing  but  hopeless  Neces- 


27 


K« 


yft^^ji 


Omar  Khayydm. 


Bity,  flung  his  own  Genius  and  Learning 
with  a  bitter  or  humorous  jest  into  the 
general  Huin  which  their  insufficient 
glimpses  only  served  to  reveal ;  and,  pre- 
tending sensual  pleasure  as  the  serious 
purpose  of  Life,  only  diverted  himself 
with  speculative  problems  of  Deity,  Des- 
tiny, Matter  and  Spirit,  Good  and  Evil, 
and  other  such  questions,  easier  to  start 
than  to  run  down,  and  the  pursuit  of 
which  becomes  a  very  weary  sport  at 
last! 

"With  regard  to  the  present  Transla- 
tion. The  original  Rubaiydt  (as,  missing 
an  Arabic  Guttural,  these  Tetrastichs  are 
more  musically  called)  are  independent 
Stanzas,  consisting  each  of  four  Lines  of 
equal,  though  varied.  Prosody;  some- 
times all  rhyming,  but  oftener  (as  here 
imitated)  the  third  line  a  blank.     Some 


if 

P 

if 

i 


/A\ 


i 


I 


K'^'*^''.'^'l1i^'^t^E':^  5- 


I 

f 

1 


i 

I 
* 


Omar  Khayyam. 

thing  as  in  the  Greek  Alcaic,  where  the 
penultimate  line  seems  to  lift  and  suspend 
the  Wave  that  falls  over  in  the  last.  As 
usual  with  such  kind  of  Oriental  Yerse, 
the  Rubaiyat  follow  one  another  accord- 
ing to  Alphabetic  Rhyme — a  strange  suc- 
cession of  Grave  and  Gay.  Those  here 
selected  are  strung  into  something  of  an 
Eclogue,  with  perhaps  a  less  than  equal 
proportion  of  the  "Drink  and  make- 
merry,"  which  (genuine  or  not)  recurs 
over-frequently  in  the  Original.  Either 
way,  the  Result  is  sad  enough :  saddest 
perhaps  when  most  ostentatiously  merry : 
more  apt  to  move  Sorrow  than  Anger 
toward  the  old  Tent-maker,  who,  after 
vainly  endeavouring  to  unshackle  his 
Steps  from  Destiny,  and  to  catch  some 
authentic  Glimpse  of  Tomorrow,  fell  back 
upon    Today   (which    has  outlasted    so 


II 
i 


! 
If 


Omar  Khayykn. 

many  Tomorrows!)  as  the  only  Ground 
he  got  to  stand  upon,  however  momenta- 
rily slipping  from  under  his  Feet. 


While  the  second  Edition  of  this  ver- 
sion of  Omar  was  preparing,  Monsieur 
!N"icolas,  French  Consul  at  Resht,  pub- 
lished a  very  careful  and  very  good  Edi- 
tion of  the  Text,  from  a  lithograph  copy 
at  Teheran,  comprising  464  Rubaiyat, 
with  translation  and  notes  of  his  own. 

Monsieur  !N"icolas,  whose  Edition  has 
reminded  me  of  several  things,  and  in- 
structed me  in  others,  does  not  consider 
Omar  to  be  the  material  Epicurean  that  I 
have  literally  taken  him  for,  but  a  Mystic, 
shadowing  the  Deity  under  the  figure  of 
Wine,  Wine-bearer,  etc.,  as  Hafiz  is  sup- 


30 


Ji 


"■       ■-  """'m 

Omar  Khayyam.  |^ 

posed  to  do;  in  short,  a  Sufi  Poet  like  |  S: 

iLi         mfiz  and  the  rest.  \iL 

\|/|  I  cannot  see  reason  to  alter  my  opinion,  |\y 

formed  as  it  was  more  than  a  dozen  years  | 

I T  Jl         ago  when  Omar  was  first  shown  me  by  I 

§1         one  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  all  I  know 
:         of  Oriental,  and  very  much  of  other,  lit- 
-  ■         erature.     He  admired  Omar's  Genius  so 
much,  that  he  would  gladly  have  adopted 

any  such  Interpretation  of  his  meaning  ] 

as  Monsieur  Mcolas,  if  he  could.*     That  j^ 

he  could  not,  appears  by  his  Paper  in  the  llTl 


II 


Calcutta  Peview  already  so  largely  quoted; 
in  which  he  argues  from  the  Poems  them- 
selves, as  well  as  from  what  records  re- 
main of  the  Poet's  Life.     And  if  more 

*  Perhaps  would  have  edited  the  Poems  himself 
some  years  ago.  He  may  now  as  little  approve  of  my 
Version  on  one  sid^  as  o£  Monsieur  Nicolas'  Theory 
OQ  tne  omer. 


r 


i 


i 
If 


if 
Jl 


Omar  Khayyanu  |^_ 

were  needed  to  disprove  Monsieur  Moo- 
las'  theory,  there  is  the  Biographical  No- 
tice which  he  himself  has  drawn  up  in 

direct  contradiction  to  the  Interpretation  I^ 
of  the  Poems  given  in  his  ITotes.     (See 

pp.  13-14   of  his   Preface.)      Indeed  I  ir 
hardly  knew  poor  Omar  was  so  far  gone 
till  his   Apologist    informed    me.      For 
here  we  see  that,  whatever  were  the  Wine 

that  Hdfiz  drank  and  sang,  the  veritable  ;^ 

Juice  of  the  Grape  it  was  which  Omar  lAt 

used,  not  only  when  carousing  with  his  |\l/ 

friends,  but  (says  Monsieur  Mcolas)  in  |^ 

order  to  excite  himself  to  that  pitch  of  jlT/ 

Devotion  which  others  reached  by  Cries  :>  S 

and  "  hurlemens."     And  yet,  whenever  IjCTi 

Wine,   Wine-bearer,   etc.,   occur  in  the  i;  ^ 

Text — ^which  is  often  enough — Monsieur  iftk 

Nicolas  carefully  annotates  "  Dieu,"  "  La  |  W 

Divinite,"  etc. :  so  carefully  indeed  that  |^ 


32 


ll 


if 

\v\__  ._. jf 


*^;-?j^i'Sg'<^^'l^sl'2s^tsE* 


i 
I 

I 
I 
i 

I 

i 


Omar  Khayydm. 

one  is  tempted  to  think  that  he  was  in- 
doctrinated by  the  Sufi  with  whom  he 
read  the  Poems.  (Note  to  Eub.  ii.  p.  8.) 
A  Persian  would  naturally  wish  to  vindi- 
cate a  distinguished  Countryman ;  and  a 
Sufi  to  enrol  him  in  his  own  sect,  which 
already  comprises  all  the  chief  Poets  of 
Persia. 

What  historical  Authority  has  Mon- 
sieur Nicolas  to  show  that  Omar  gave 
himself  up  "  avec  passion  k  Tetude  de  la 
philosophic  des  Soufis"?  (Preface,  p. 
xiii.)  The  Doctrines  of  Pantheism,  Ma- 
terialism, !N"ecessity,  etc.,  were  not  pecu- 
liar to  the  Sufi ;  nor  to  Lucretius  before 
them ;  nor  to  Epicurus  before  him ;  prob- 
ably the  very  original  Irreligion  of  Think- 
ing men  from  the  first ;  and  very  likely 
to  be  the  spontaneous  growth  of  a  Philos 
opher   living   in   an   Age  of  social  and 


33 


i;«. 


•l» 


I  Omar  Khayyam 


I 

I 
I 
11 

* 
I 


political  barbarism,  under  shadow  of  one 
of  the  Two  and  Seventy  Religions  sup- 
posed to  divide  the  world.  Von  Hammer 
(according  to  Sprenger's  Oriental  Cata- 
logue) speaks  of  Omar  as  "  a  Free-thinker, 
and  a  great  opponent  of  Sujlsm  ";  perhaps 
because,  while  holding  much  of  their 
Doctrine,  he  would  not  pretend  to  any 
inconsistent  severity  of  morals.  Sir  W. 
Ouseley  has  written  a  'Hole  to  something 
of  the  same  effect  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the 
Bodleian  MS.  And  in  two  Eubaiydt  of 
Monsieur  Mcolas'  own  Edition  Suf  and 
Siifi  are  both  disparagingly  named. 

"No  doubt  many  of  these  Quatrains 
seem  unaccountable  unless  mystically  in- 
terpreted; but  many  more  as  unaccount- 
able unless  literally.  "Were  the  Wine 
spiritual,  for  instance,  how  wash  the 
Body  with  it  when  dead?    Why  make 

34 


gf^iifei^»j«^.i.^.^|g.ii^|g.|. 


Omar  Khajydm. 

cups  of  the  dead  clay  to  be  filled  with— 
"  La  Divinite  " — ^by  some  succeeding 
Mystic?  Monsieur  ITicolas  himself  is 
puzzled  by  some  "  bizarres  "  and  "  trop 
Orientales  "  allusions  and  images — "  d'une 
sensualite  quelquefois  revoltante/^  indeed 
— ^which  "  les  convenances  "  do  not  per- 
mit him  to  translate ;  but  still  which  the 
reader  cannot  but  refer  to  "La  Divinite."* 

*  A  Note  to  Quatrain  234  admits  that,  however 
clear  the  mystical  meaning  of  such  Images  must  be  to 
Europeans,  thej  are  not  quoted  without  "rougis- 
sant "  even  by  laymen  in  Persia — "  Quant  aux  termea 
de  tendresse  qui  commencent  ce  quatrain,  comme 
tant  d'autres  dans  ce  recueil,  nos  lecteurs,  habitues 
maintenant  k  I'dtrangetd  des  expressions  si  souvent 
employes  par  Kh^yam  pour  rendre  ses  pens^es  sur 
r  amour  divin,  et  ^  la  singularity  des  images  trop 
orientales,  d'une  sensuality  quelquefois  r^voltante, 
n'auront  pas  de  peine  a  se  persuader  qu'il  s'agit  de  la 
Divinity,  bien  que  cette  conviction  soit  vivement  dis- 
cut^  par  les  mouUahs  musulmans,  et  m^me  par  beau* 


35 


I 
I 

I 

f 
I 

I 

If 


gj^fei^^-Iife'^fe'i^^^^F^IS*?® 


\ 


:*5fc:=.M';2fE=:'i'2g*gg';gg  JJ 


Omar  Khayyam. 


coup  de  laiques,  que  rougissent  veritabJement  d^une 
pareille  licence  de  leur  compatriote  s  I'^gard  des 
choses  spirituelles. " 


36 


I 
II 


No  doubt  also  many  of  the  Quatrains  in 
the  Teheran,  as  in  the  Calcutta,  Copies, 
are  spurious;  such  Buhdiydt  being  the 
common  form  of  Epigram  in  Persia.    But  | 

this,   at  best,  tells  as  much  one  way   as  I 

another;  nay,  the  Sufi,  who  may  be  con- 
sidered the  Scholar  and  Man  of  Letters 
in  Persia,  would  be  far  more  likely  than 
the  careless  Epicure  to  interpolate  what  1|WJ 

favours  his  own  view  of  the  Poet.     I  ob-  |\i/ 

serve  that  very  few  of  the  more  mystical  |/^ 

f 


11 


Quatrains  are  in  the  Bodleian  MS.  which 
must  be  one  of  the  oldest,  as  dated  at 
Shiraz,  a.h.  865,  a.d.  1460.  And  this,  I 
think,  especially  distinguishes  Omar  (I 
cannot  help  calling  him  by  his — no,  not 
Christian — familiar  name)   from  all  other  I 


if 


il 
If 

i 


K<fe'«^^''^fe'>fe'"^«^^*^|5'«{Sf 


At 


m 


Persian  Poets :  That,  whereas  with  them 
the  Poet  is  lost  in  his  Song,  the  Man  in 
Allegory  and  Abstraction;  we  seem  to 
have  the  Man — the  Bonhomme — Omar 
himself,  with  all  his  Humours  and  Pas- 
sions, as  frankly  before  us  as  if  we  were 
really  at  Table  with  him,  after  the  Wine 
had  gone  round. 

I  must  say  that  I,  for  one,  never  wholly 
believed  in  the  Mysticism  of  Hafiz.  It 
does  not  appear  there  was  any  danger  in 
holding  and  singing  Sufi  Pantheism,  so 
long  as  the  Poet  made  his  Salaam  to  Mo» 
hammed  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  his 
Song.  Under  such  conditions  JeMlud- 
din,  Jami,  Attar,  and  others  sang;  using 
Wine  and  Beauty  indeed  as  Images  to 
illustrate,  not  as  a  Mask  to  hide,  the 
Divinity  they  were  celebrating.  Perhaps 
some  Allegory  less  liable  to  mistake  or 


^7. 


Omar  Khayyam. 


ii 


abuse  had  been  better  among  so  inflam- 
mable a  People :  much  more  so  when,  as 
some  think  with  Hafiz  and  Omar,  the  ab- 
stract is  not  only  likened  to,  but  identi- 
fied with,  the  sensual  Image ;  hazardous,         | 


w 


if  not  to  the  Devotee  himself,  yet  to  his         j 
weaker  Brethren ;  and  worse  for  the  Pro-         i 


fj^ 


fane  in  proportion  as  the  Devotion  of  the 
Initiated  grew  warmer.  And  all  for 
what  ?  To  be  tantalized  with  Images  of 
sensual  enjoyment  which  must  be  re-  Ij4pj 
nounced  if  one  would  approximate  a  God,  Ivj/ 
who,  according  to  the  Doctrine,  is  Sensual  |^ 
Matter  as  well  as  Spirit,  and  into  whose  |u/ 
Universe  one  expects  unconsciously  jjS 
to  merge  after  Death,  without  hope  of  |jm 
any  posthumous  Beatitude  in  another  j!  ^ 
world  to  compensate  for  all  one's  self- 
denial  in  this.  Lucretius'  blind  Divinity 
certainly  merited,  and  probably  got,  as         |^ 

38 


if) 


•l»5>^'l» 


.|.$J^.|.:g|^'l«^|?:'b^|f5:  JJ 


Omar  "Khayjdm. 

much  self-sacrifice  as  this  of  the  Sufi; 
and  the  burden  of  Omar's  Song — ^if  not 
"Let  us  eat" — is  assuredly — "Let  us 
drink,  for  Tomorrow  we  die  !"  And  if 
Hdfiz  meant  quite  otherwise  by  a  similar 
language,  he  surely  miscalculated  when 
he  devoted  his  Life  and  Genius  to  so 
equivocal  a  Psalmody  as,  from  his  Day 
to  this,  has  been  said  and  sung  by  any 
rather  than  spiritual  Worshippers. 

However,  as  there  is  some  traditional 
presumption,  and  certainly  the  opinion 
of  some  learned  men,  in  favour  of  Omar's 
being  a  Siifi, — and  even  something  of  a 
Saint, — those  who  please  may  so  inter- 
pret his  Wine  and  Cup-bearer.  On  the 
other  hand,  as  there  is  far  more  historical 
certainty  of  his  being  a  Philosopher,  of 
scientific  Insight  and  Ability  far  beyond 
that  of  the  Age  and  Country  he  lived  in; 

39 


g;^a^^4^^.i.^.|.g^t^^> 


f 

He- 

if 

i 


if 

li 


>ll^ 


Omar  Khayjdm. 

of  such  moderate  worldly  Ambition  as 
becomes  a  Philosopher,  and  such  moder- 
ate wants  as  rarely  satisfy  a  Debauchee ; 
other  readers  may  be  content  to  believe 
with  me  that,  while  the  Wine  Omar 
celebrates  is  simply  the  Juice  of  the 
Grape,  he  bragg'd  more  than  he  drank 
of  it,  in  very  Defiance  perhaps  of  that 
Spiritual  Wine  which  left  its  Votaries 
sunk  in  Hypocrisy  or  Disgust 


1^ 


i 

1! 
I 


4a 


S«^^' 


1^ 


I 

fi 
I 


RUBAIYAT 

OF 


I 

OMAR  KHAYYAM  OF  NAISHAPIJR  j^ 

i 

I 


5Sf<3ii^'"^^'"^i^"'^^'«'^^* 


"      ■"■  ■ '       ■"■~"1W 


EUBAIYAT. 


I. 

Wake  !     For  the  Sun  who  scattered  into 

flight 
The  Stars  before  him  from  the  Field  of 

Fight, 
Drives  Fight  along  with   them  from 

Heav'n,  and  strikes 

The   SuMn's   Turret  with    a    Shaft  of         j* 

Light. 

II. 

Before  the  phantom  of  False  morning         |^ 

died,«  j() 

Methought  a  Voice  within  the  Tavern 

cried, 
"When  all  the  Temple  is  prepared 

within, 
Why  nods  the  drowsy  "Worshipper  out* 

side?"  l^ 


43 


If 

li 
I 

I 


II 
I 

Wl if 


■        ■"■"■      W 

III. 

And,  as  the  Cock  crew,  those  who  stood 

before 
The   Tavern  shouted — "  Open   then  the 

door! 
You  know  how  little  while  we  have  to 

stay, 
And,    once    departed,    may    return    no 

more." 


IV. 

ITow  the  lN"ew  Year  reviving  old  Desires,* 
The  thoughtful  Soul  to  Solitude  retires. 

Where  the  "White  Hand  of  Moses  on 
the  Bough 
Puts  out,  and  Jesus  from  the  Ground 
suspires.^ 


I 
I 

fi 


AND    MANY    A    GARDEN    BY    THE    WATER    BLOWS 


:<<3 


10 


f 

w 

« 

I 

ill 

I 

II 

I 
if 

if 

if 

.if 


Rubdiydt. 


Iram  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his  Eose,* 

And  Jamshyd's  Sev'n-ring'd  Cup  where 
no  one  knows ; 
But  still  a  Euby  gushes  from  the  Vine, 

And  many  a  Garden  by  the  Water  blows. 


VI. 

And  David's  lips  are  lockt;  but  in  divine* 

High-piping  Pehlevi, with  "Wine!  Wine! 

Wine! 
Red  Wine  I" — ^the  Nightingale  cries  to 

the  Rose 
That  sallow  cheek  ^  of  hers  to  incarnar 

dine. 


45. 


f) 


•I' 


Eubdiydt 

vn. 

Oomo,  fill  the  Cup,  and  in  the  fire  of 


If 

Spring  j  A 

Your   Winter  -  garment    of    Repentance  jfTl 

fling : 

The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 

To  flutter — and  the  Bird  is  on  the  "Wing.  l  ~~ 


vni. 

Whether  at  N'aishdpiir  or  Babylon, 


A6 


f) 


I) 


Whether  the  Cup  with  sweet  or  bitter 

run. 
The  Wine  of  Life  keeps  oozing  drop 

by  drop,  I 

The  Leaves  of  Life  keep  falling  one  by  | 

one. 


I 

« 

if 


I 


If 


IL it 


Rubdiydt  I- 

^1  IX.  1^ 

VI/I         Each  Morn  a  thousand  Roses  brings,  yoa  l^Jf 

say;  jl 

Yes,  but  where  leaves  the  Rose  of  Yes-  |vi/ 


terday  ? 
And  this   first   Summer  month  that 
brings  the  Rose 


If 

ITl j        Shall  take  Jamshyd  and  Kaikobdd  away.  jlN 

If 

Well,  let  it  take  them !     What  have  we  l^ 

With  Kaikobdd  the  Great,  or  Kaikhosrii  ?  |\l/ 

Let  Zdl  and  Rustum  thunder  as  they  !rjn 

will,7  |W 

Or  Hdtim  call  to  Supper — ^heed  not  you*  |^ 


1. ._..      'I 

to  do 


47 


if 

if 


K^^'*'^'"^!^"'^^* 


■$5'^i*s(§''.'2^1^^'2§t§&^  1? 


strown 
That  just  divides   the    desert  from   the 
sown, 


to' 


fl 


w 

/^l  XI.  1^ 

\l/l         With   me   along,  the   strip   of  Herbage  |\|/ 

I 

frjj;  Where  name  of   Slave  and  SuMn  is          •[¥! 

Wf  forgot-                                                        VM 

^1  And  Peace  to 

\J)|  Throne! 

I 

i 


forgotr—  5- 

And  Peace  to  Mahmiid  on  his  srolden  Im 

w 

if 

If 


XII. 

A  Book  of  Yerses  underneath  the  Bouffh,  

A  Jug  of  Wine,  a  Loaf  of  Bread — and  illy 

.Thou  I* 

Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness —  jfyj 

Oh,  Wilderness  v^ere  Paradise  enow !  fl^ 
48 


if 

if 


NOR    HEED    THE    RUMBLE    OF    A    DISTANT    DRUM 


^i'^^^'^f^^^^^^^^^^^^^^l 


Rubdiydt. 

XIII. 

Some   for  the  Glories  of  This  World; 

and  some 
Sigh  for  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  come ; 

Ah,  take  the  Cash,  and  let  the  Credit 

go, 
Nor  heed  the  rumble  of  a  distant  Drum!  ^ 


XIV. 

Look  to  the  blowing  Rose  about  us — 
"Lo, 

Laughing,"  she  says,  "  into  the  world  I 
blow, 
At  once  the  silken  tassel  of  my  Purse 

Tear,  and   its  Treasure  on  the  Garden 
throw."* 


49 


if 
If 


w 

if 
i 
if 


K^^« 


a* 


Rubdiydt. 

XV. 

And  those  wlio  husbanded  the  Golden 

grain, 
And  those  who  flung  it  to  the  winds  like 

Rain, 
Alike  to   no   such   aureate  Earth  are 

turn'd 
As,  buried    once,  Men  want    dug    up 

again. 


XVI. 

The  "Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts 

upon 
Turns  Ashes — or  it  prospers ;  and  anon, 

Like    Snow   upon  the  Desert's   dusty 
Face, 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two — ^was  gone, 

50 


l§ 


« 


I 
i 


K*^' 


'^N-^K 


f!  ra 

1^1  Bubdiydt. 


I 


If 


^1  ^^^^-  Im 

^^  j  Think,  in  this  batter'd  Caravanserai  ^Jj 

•  Whose  Portals  are  alternate  Kight  and  im 

I  Day,  |V{/ 


I  How    SuMn    after    Sultdn    with    his  [^ 

^  j  Abode  his  destin'd  Hour,  and  went  his  j^ 

(Di  ">  w 

$i  -n.  if 

7S I  They    say    the    Lion    and    the    Lizard  jS 

#  •  The  Courts  where  Jamshyd  gloried  and  |  !& 

[yj :  drank  deep :  ^^  ijffj 

^'1  And  Bahram,  that  great  Hunter-— the  f^ 

m]  Wild  Ass  I" 

\|/  I  Stamps  o'er  his  Head,  but  cannot  break  | 

^j  his  Sleep.  [^ 

f  ..  if 

tL_.,-^ i« 


■Ksfei'S^a'^l^i' 


Kubaiydt. 

XIX, 

I  sometimes  think  that  never  blows  so 

red 
The  Eose  as  where  some  buried  Caesar 

bled; 
That  every  Hyacinth  the  Garden  wears 

Dropt  in  her  Lap  from  some  once  lovely 
Head. 


XX. 

And  this  reviving  Herb   whose  tender 

Green 
Fledges    the    River-Lip    on    which   we 

lean — 
Ah,   lean  upon   it  lightly!    for  who 

knows 
From  what  once  lovely  Lip  it  springs 

unseen  I 

I 


It 

i 
I 

I 
if 


if 


LOOK  TO  THE  BLOWING  ROSE  ABOUT  US 


f 

|f  Rubaiydt. 


1 

'I 

W! 
.1 

'I 


XXI. 

Ah,  my  Beloved,  fill  the  cup  that  clears 

To-day  of  past  Regret  and  future  Fears ! 

To-morrow  ! — ^Whj,  To-morrow  I  may 
be 
Myself  with  Yesterday's  Sev'n  thousand 
Years." 


XXII. 

For  some  we  loved,  the  loveliest  and  the 

best 
That  from  his  Vintage  rolling  Time  has 

prest, 
Have  drunk  their  Cup  a  Round  or  two 

before, 
And  one  by  one  crept  silently  to  rest 


53 


II 


I 
I 

I 
f 

if 

if 

m 


K^^^' 


•i-s 


'""'  '""*'       '        '"     W 

Rubdiydt. 

XXIII. 

And  we,  that  now  make  merry  in  the 

Room 
They  left,  and  Summer  dresses  in  new 

bloom, 
Ourselves  must  we  beneath  the  Couch 

of  Earth 
Descend — ourselves  to  make  a  Couch — 

for  whom  2 


XXIV. 

Ah,  make  the  most  of  what  we  yet  may 

spend. 
Before  we  too  into  the  Dust  descend ; 

Dust  into   Dust,  and  under   Dust,  to 
lie, 
Sans  "Wine,  sans  Song,  sans  Singer,  and 
— sans  End ! 

54 


•lt»-3'i« 


K^'^'!!^5Sl'^^'^t^&*:^ 


yi.n 


Kubdiydt. 

XXV. 

Alike   for   those  who    for  To-day  pre- 
pare, 

And  those  that  after  some  To-morkow 
stare, 
A  Muezzin  from  the  Tower  of  Dark- 
ness cries, 

<*  Fools,  your  Eeward  is   neither  Here 
nor  There." 


V 


XXVI. 

Why,  all  the  Saints  and  Sages  who  dis- 

cuss'd 
Of    the  Two  "Worlds    so  learnedly   are 

thrust 
Like    foolish    Prophets    forth;    their 

Words  to  Scorn 
Are    scatter'd,   and    their    Mouths    are 

etopt  with  Dust. 

55 


K^H^' 


1^ 


?'5'^'l!S''.'2^'l'2^3EtSE'SSjS 


I 

I 
I 

ii 

f 
I 

I 


Rubdiy^t. 


XXVII. 


If 

If 

I 

i 

And   with   my   own    hand  wrought  to         j  /^ 

make  it  grow ;  jl ll 

And  this  was  all  the  Harvest  that  I         ':  * 


Myself  when    young    did    eagerly    fre- 
quent 

Doctor  and  Saint,  and  heard  great  argu-  | 

ment 
About  it  and  about :  but  evermore 


XXVIII. 

With  them  the  seed  of  Wisdom  did  I 
sow, 


reap'd — 
"I   came   like   Water,   and    like   Wind 
I  go." 

56 


Came  out  by  the  same  door  where  in  I         1/ 
went. 


if 
if 


>i* 


ABODE    HIS    DESTINED    HOUR,    AND    WENT    HIS    WAY 


.^  ._.  ... 


^ 


5il 


Rubdiydt. 


XXIX.  |M 

Into  this  Universe,  and  Whi/  not  know-         l>|/ 

Nor  Whence^  like  Water  willy-nilly  flow-        F 

ing; 
And  out  of  it,   as  "Wind  along  the 

Waste, 
I  know  not    Whither^  willy-nilly  blow- 

i      '""  II 

XXX, 


I 

i 

I 

if 

fOh,  many  a   Cup   of  this  forbidden  •  €■ 

!  Wine  j^ 

.  I  Must  drown  the  memory  of  that  ineo-  §2 

M  lenoe!  '  \A 

f  sr  if 

i  J* 


What,   without    asking,   hither  hurried 
I  Whence  f 

And,  without  asking.   Whither    hurried 
hence ! 


»i» 


^{■^^'"^^'"^^'''^^^'^^'^"'^'^"^^^'JS 


i 

f 
li 


Eubdiydt 

XXXI. 

Up   from   Earth's    Centre     through    the 

Seventh  Gate 
I   rose,  and   on  the   Throne  of   Saturn 

sate," 
And  many  a  Knot  unravell'd  by  the 

Road; 
But    not    the    Master-knot    of   Human 

Fate. 

xxxn. 

There  was  the  Door  to  which  I  found 

no  Key ; 
There  was  the  Yeil  through  which  I 

could  not  see : 
Some    little   talk  awhile   of  Mb  and 

Thee 
There  was — and  then  no  more  of  Thee 

and  Me." 

58 


if 


•"^^"•^^•'^^•^^^IS* 


^. — . ^^ 


XXXIII. 


Earth  could  not  answer;   nor  the  Seas 

that  mourn  |^ 


I 


In  flowing  Purple,   of  their  Lord  for-  j 

lorn; 

Kor  rolling  Heaven,  with  all  his  Signs  - 

reveal'd  I  ^ 

And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  Kight  and  IfiFJ 

Morn.  |W 

XXXIV.  |\I/ 

Then  of  the   Thee  in  Mb  who  works        |j^ 

if 

If 

if 
i 

it) 


behind 
The    Veil,    I    lifted    up    my  hands   to 

find 
A  Lamp  amid   the   Darkness;  and  I 

heard, 
As    from   Without — "  The   Me   within 

Thee  blind  !"  1 

59 


'm 


Mi: 


Rubaiydt. 

XXXV. 

Then  to   the   Lip  of  this  poor  earthen 

Urn 
I    lean'd,    the    Secret    of   my  Life    to 

learn : 
And  Lip  to  Lip  it  murmur'd — ''  While 

you  live, 
Drink ! — for,  once  dead,  you  never  shall 

return." 


m 


n 


If 


XXXVI. 

I  think  the  Vessel,  that  with  fugitive 

Articulation  answer'd,  once  did  live, 

And  drink ;  and  Ah !  the  passive  Lip 
I  kiss'd, 
How  many  Kisses   might   it  take — and 


give 


60 


K^^' 


i^ 


n 

n 
If 


it) 


tKU 


AND    IN    YOUR    JOYOUS    ERRAND   REACH    THE    SPOT 


i> 

XXXVII.  I 

For  I  remember  stopping  by  tbe  way 


To   watch   a  Potter   thumping   his  wet 
Clay: 
And  with  its  all-obliterated  Tongue 

It  murmur' d — "  Gently,  Brother,  gently, 
pray!"" 


«  A. 

II 

r 


if 


f 


XXXVIII. 

Listen — a  moment  listen ! — Of  the  same  I  _ 

ill; 

Poor    Earth   from   which    that   Human 
Whisper  came 
The   luckless   Mould   in   which  Man-  I  . 

kind  was  cast  I 


They  did  compose,  and  call'd  him  by  the         I 

name.  j^ 

6i 


W 

if 


f f 

M  Eubdiydt.  iK 


i  if 

ITJl        And  aot  a  drop  that  from  our  Cups  we  llTl 

^     f  4-V.-M>-w'rrr  15  *    'SL 


throw  ^^ 
For  Earth   to  drink   of,  but  may  steal 
below 


*& 


To  quench  the  fire  of  Anguish  in  some  irm 

Eye  iW 

^i        There    hidden — far    beneath,   and  long  |^ 

ago.  j 

If 

As   then    the    Tulip    for   her  morning  j^ 
sup 


I 


fi 


Of  Heav'nly  Vintage  from  the  soil  looks  •  •£• 


Do    you    devoutly   do    the    like,  till  I 

m  Heav'n  W 

\(/j         To    Earth   invert    you    like    an   empty  g\l/ 

1  Cup.  [^ 

IL „.„ Jf 


K?<.c4^-i'$^*3i^-i'3«B^'i!:s|^'i-^it:*^|':  5.»5 


11 

I 

li 
I 

f 
I 


J\ 
I  Eub%dt 


XLI. 

Perplext  no   more  witli  Human  or  Di- 
vine, 

To-morrow's    tangle    to    the   winds    re- 
sign, 
And   lose  your   fingers  in   the   tress- 
es of 

The  Cypress-slender  Minister  of  "Wine. 


XLII. 

And  if  the  Wine  you  drink,  the  Lip  you 

press, 
End  in  what  All  begins  and  ends  in  — 
Yes; 
Think  then  you  are  To-day  what  Yes- 
terday 
You  were — To-morrow  you  shall  not  he 
less. 


63 


I'a^^'i'^i-^'i' 


II 

I 

I 
I 

i 

i 
i 


IS 


17 


I 


I 


ili 


'       i 

Rubdiy^t. 


XLIII. 

So  when  the  Angel  of  the  darker  Drink 

At  last  shall  find  you  by  the  river-brink, 

And,  offering  his  Cup,  invite  your  Soul 

Forth  to  your  Lips  to  quaff — ^you  shall 
not  shrink.^* 


XLIV, 

Why,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside, 

And  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Wer't  not  a  Shame — ^wer't  not  a  Shame 
for  him 
In  this  clay  carcase  crippled  to  abide  I 


I' 

I 
11 


I 


I 


I 


AT    LAST    SHALL    FIND    YOU    BY    THE    RIVER-BRINK 


1^ . ^ 

A.|  Rubaijdt. 


XLV. 

IT  J I  T  is  but  a  Tent  where  takes  his  one-day's 

rest 
A  Sultan  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest ; 


i 
I 

i 

I 


1 


The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Ferrash 
Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  Guest, 


XLVI. 

And  fear  not  lest  Existence  closing  your 

Account,  and  mine,  should  know  the  like 

no  more; 
J  The  Eternal  Saki  from  that  Bowl  has 

pour'd 
Millions  of  Bubbles  like  us,  and  will  pour. 


65 


Rubdiydt. 


i 

At 

m 
il 


i 


11 

fi 


shall  last, 

Which  of  our  Coming  and  Departure 
heeds 
As  the  Sev'n  Seas  should  heed  a  pebble 
cast. 


66 


if 


WTien  You  and  I  behind  the  Veil  are  |\I/ 

past,  1^ 

Oh  but  the  long  long  while  the  World        *  jyj/ 

I 
I 

XLVIII.  1^ 

if 

if 
i 
if 


A  Moment's  Halt — a  momentary  taste 

Of  Being  from  the  Well  amid  the  Waste — 

And  Lo  ! — the  phantom  Caravan  has  ;  ;S^ 

reach'd 
The  I^OTHiNQ  it  set  out  from — Oh,  make 

haste  I  1^ 


Rubdiydt, 

XLIX. 

Would  you   that   spangle   of  Existence 

spend 
About  THE  SECRET — quickabout  it, Friend! 

A  Hair  perhaps  divides  the  False  and 
True— 
And  upon  what, prithee, does  Life  depend? 


A  Hair  perhaps  divides  the  False  and 

True; 
Yes ;  and  a  single  Alif  were  the  clue- 
Could  you  but  find  it — ^to  the  Treasure- 
house, 
And  peradventure  to  The  Master  too; 

67 


n 


f 

§ 
I 

I 
I 
I 


if 

if 


K<^'i'3|fe;HC- 


M»: 


Rubaiydt. 

LI. 

Whose   secret  Presence,  through   Crea^ 
tion's  veins 

Running  Quicksilver-like     eludes     your 
pains  ; 
Taking  all  shapes  from  Mah  to  Mdhi  ;^ 
and 

They  change  and  perish  all — ^but  He  re- 
mains ; 


LII. 

A  moment  guess'd — ^then  back  behind  the 

Fold 
Immerst  of  Darkness  round  the  Drama 

roird 
Which,  for  the  Pastime  of  Eternity, 

He  does  Himself  contrive,  enact,  behold. 
68 


if 

If 

if 

if 

if 

I 


if 


K^i^^'ife'''^"'^* 


w 


fiis 


AH.    MY    BELOVED,    FILL    THE    CUP 


I 


At!  Bubdiydt.  !»J 

ii  ™-  il 

Vl/I  But  if  in  vain,  down  on  the  stubborn  floor  |  \l/ 

^!  Of  Earth,  and  up  to  Heav'n's  unopening  !f4^ 

aJ/I  Door,  |\1/ 

^1  You  gaze  To-day,  while  You  are  You  |M 

\jj I  —how  then  i\J/ 

^1  To-morrow,  You  when  shall  be  You  no  j^ 

iJ3i  '""  W 

I 


i  Waste  not  jour  Hour,  nor  in  the  vain 

I  pursuit  " 

I          Of  This  and  That  endeavour  and  dispute ;  i|  Vl/ 

Better  be    jocund   with   the    fruitful  !|Yj 

Grape  |\I/ 

Than  sadden  after  none,  or  bitter,  Fruit.  \o^ 


69 


if 

i# 


»l« 


|. _.- ^ 

I  Rubaiyat.  | 


LV. 

Jl  You  know,  my  Friends,  with  what  a  brave 

Carouse 
I  made  a  Second  Marriage  in  my  house; 

■  Divorced  old  barren  Reason  from  my 

Bed, 
And  took  the  Daughter  of  the  Vine  to 
Spouse. 


t 
If 
li 

I 


I 


LVI. 

For  ''Is"  and  ''Is-not''  though  with  Rule 

and  Line,^® 
And  **  Up-and-down  ''  by  Logic  I  define, 

Of  all  that  one  should  care  to  fathom,  I 
Was  never  deep  in  anything  but — ^Wine. 

70 


•|•^^r3•^•^[^-^•^^^-^•I• 


\fi 


Rubdiydt, 


LVII. 


ITJl  Ah,  but  my  Computations,  People  say, 

^1  Reduced  the  Year  to  better  reckoning? 

\J)i  -Nay, 

^1  'T  was  only  striking  from  the  Calendar 

\Jyl  Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday. 

I| 

fl  IVIII. 

I  And  lately,  by  the  Tavern  Door  agape, 

M  I  Came  shining  through  the  Dusk  an  An- 

IT)  I  gel  Shape 

ii 

41  


Bearing  a  Vessel  on  his  Shoulder ;  and 

He  bid  me  taste  of  it;  and 't  was — the 
Grape ! 

71 


I 
I 

I 
I 

if 

if 


^"^^I^l^l^^^t^.*^ 


"Rubaiyat. 


T 


LIX. 

The  Grape  that  can  with  Logic  absolute 

The  Two-and-Seventy  jarring  Sects  con' 
fute  :^» 
The  sovereign  Alchemist  that  in  a  trice 

Life's  leaden  metal  into  Gold  transmute ; 


LX. 

The    mighty   Mahmiid,     Allah-breathing 

Lord, 
That    all    the    misbelieving    and    black 

Horde  20 
Of  Fears  and  Sorrows  that  infest  the 

Soul 
Scatters  before   him  with  his    whirlwind 

Sword. 

72 


11 

I 

f 


I 
if 


K^(^' 


THE    BALL    NO    QUESTION    MAKES    OF    AYES    AND    NOES 


W 


}l» 


m 


Rubaijdt. 

LXI. 

"WI17,  be  this  Juice  the  growth  of  God^ 

who  dare 
Blaspheme  the  twisted  tendril  as  a  Snare  I 

A  Blessing,  we  should  use  it,  should 
we  not  ? 
And  if  a  Curse — ^why,  then,  Who  set  it 
there? 


LXII. 

I  must  abjure  the  Balm  of  Life,  I  must, 

Scared  by  some  After-reckoning  ta'en  on 

trust. 
Or  lured  with  Hope  of  some  Diviner 

Drink, 
To  fill  the  Cup — ^when    crumbled   into 

Dust  I 


73 


K^^' 


•I« 


f) 

II 

If 
II 

I 

I 
I 

I 


I  Rub^iydt. 


[ 


fi 

i 
I 


LXIII. 

O  threats  of  Hell  and  hopes  of  Paradise  \ 

One  thing  at  least  is  certain, — This  Life 

flies; 
One  thing  is  certain  and  the  rest  is 

Lies; 
The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  forever 

dies. 


LXIV. 

Strange,  is  it  not?  that  of  the  myriads 

who 
Before  us  pass'd  the  door  of  Darkness 

through 
Not  one  returns  to  tell  us  of  the  Eoad, 

Which  to  discover  we  must  travel  too. 
74 


g^i^ai^^Jil^tiifeii.S^i^j^;^^ 


if 

II 
I 

I 


if 

if 


K'^^ll^i'^'l^^'^ts^':^-  ss 


Rubaiyat 

LXV. 

The  Revelations  of  Devout  and  Learned 

Who    rose    before    us,    and    as    Prophets  | 

burned,  I 

Are  all  but  Stories,  which,  awoke  from  i 

Sleep 


i 


11 

if 

I 

^1  Are  all  but  Stories,  which,  awoke  from  |/^ 

til  '^"'  iw 

A  I  They    told    their    fellows,    and    to    Sleep  5  a 

«!  returned.  !f|f| 

11  If 

4"!  "^^  !$ 

mi  I  sent  my  Soul  through  the  Invisible,  lyj/ 

§/jS  j  Some  letter  of  that  After-life  to  spell :  $il^ 

\I/|  And  by  and  by  my  Soul  returned  to  1^ 

j  And  answer 'd  **I  myself  am  Heav*n  and  |\|j 


i 


j  Jieu.  "  I 

i  75  j 


Wi ,_^ 


if 
II 


I 


W 

iLt  LXVII.  1^ 

\|/l         Heav'n  but  the  Vision  of  fulfiird  Desire,  I vj/ 

And  Hell  the  Shadow  of  a  Soul  on  fire,  !|TS 


/h 


I 


I 


iv 


Rubdiyat. 


76 


'I 


i 


Cast  on  the  Darkness  into  which  Our- 
selves, 
So  late  emerg'd  from,  shall  so  soon  expire.  5  ^ 

i 

LXVIII.  l!f§i 

We  are  no  other  than  a  moving  row  •  -g" 


Of  Magic  Shadow-shapes  that  come  and  |i 


I 


|1 

if 

%'_ i 


il 


go 
Eound  with  this  Sun-illumin'd  Lantern 
held 
In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show  ;^  \^ 


AH.    LEAN    UPON    IT    LIGHTLY 


%$ 


5* 


>!<sfe:i'50'^^Sj^«»'^^'''^fe;'«'^r-  55 


Rubdiydt 

LXIX. 

Impotent  Pieces  of  the  Game  He  plays 

Upon  this  Checker-board  of  Nights  and 

Days; 
Hither  and  thither  mores,  and  checks, 

and  slays, 
And  one  by  one  back  in  the  Closet  layso 


LXX. 

Tke  Ball  no  question  makes  of  Ayes  and 

IN'oes 
But  Right  or  Left  as  strikes  the  Player 

goes; 
And  He  that  toss'd  you  down  into  the 

Field, 
Se  knows  about  it  all — he  knows — ^HE 

knows !  ^ 

77 


•J'^^'iiS 


m 

ii 
11 


I 
I 

I 
I 

I 

If 
I 


^^. . _  ^ 

>^|                                                 LXXI.  JM 

Vyi         The  Moving  Finger  writes ;  and,  having  |\l/ 

^I                     writ,  1^ 

lyij        Moves  on :  nor  all  your  Piety  nor  Wit  Mj 


I 


i 


f 
I 


Shall  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  Line,  | 

I        Nor  all  your  Tears  wash  out  a  Word  of  it.  '! 


I 


)i  f 


i« 


LXXII.  j/jS 

And  that  inverted  Bowl  they  call  the  j\i/ 
Sky, 

Whereunder  crawling  coop'd  we  live  and  n 

«  :  die,  •  * 

/Wjj  Lift  not  your  hands  to  It  for  help—  •[¥ 

W|  for  It  IW 

Ab  impotently  rolls  as  you  or  L  !i^ 

78 


^1         Ab  impotently  rolls  as  you  or  L  li^ 

I  ^«  I* 

i  _ ..  jf 


^!  Kub%4t 

I 

j^l  LXXIII. 


i 
ti 

i 


With  Earth's  first   Clay  They  did  the 
I  Last  Man  knead, 

And  there  of  the  Last  Harvest  sow'd  the 
Seed : 
And  the  first  Morning   of    Creation 
wrote 
What  the  Last  Dawn  of  Reckoning  shall 
xead. 


Ar 


fi 

t! 


fi 


LXXIV. 

Yesterday  This  Day's  Madness  did  pre- 
pare ; 

To-MoRROw's  Silence,  Triumph,  or  Dee- 
pair: 
Drink !  for  you  know  not  whence  you 
came,  nor  why : 

Drink!  for  you  know  not  why  you  go, 


j  nor  where. 

79 


I 

§ 

I 
I 
I 


.1 


K's^"'^^'"^^'''^^"* 


« 


Pi 


'W 

LXXV.  |S 

I  tell  you  this — ^When,  started  from  the  jlT/ 

Goal,  j* 

Over  the  flaming  shoulders  of  the  Foal  jfrj 

/AM            Of  Heav'n  Parwin  and  Mushtari  they  J S 

m      ^"'^^'^  is 

^1         In  my  predestin'd  Plot  of  Dust  and  Soul  j  4 

i  if 


I 
I 


if 


f 


LXXTI, 

The  Vine  had  struck   a  fibre :    which  jlTf 

about 
If  clings  my  Being — ^let  the  Dervish  flout ; 

Of  my  Base  metal  may  be  filed  a  Key,  j  S 

That  shall  unlock  the  Door  he  howls  |\I/ 

iJ 


» 


fi 

,/a  j  wiinout.                                                          I /A 

W\  so                                       if 

§!•    _    _    ^11 


OPEN    THEN    THE    DOOR 


(5^j9^'i'Safc>'i'3 


Rubdiydt. 

LXXVII, 

And  this  I  know :  whether  the  one  True 

Light 
Kindle  to  Love,  or  Wrath-consume  me 

quite, 
One  Flash   of  It  within   the   Tavern 

caught 
Better  than  in  the  Temple  lost  outright. 


Pi 


LXXYIII. 

WTiat !  out  of  senseless  Nothing  to  pro 

voke 
A   conscious    Something  to  resent  the 

yoke 
Of  unpermitted  Pleasure,  under  pain 

Of  Everlasting  Penalties,  if  broke  I 
tf  8i 


•* 


K*^^- 


If 

I, 


Rub£iy&t 


LXXIX. 

What,  from    his    helpless   Creature   be         I 
repaid  | 

Pore  Gold  for  what  he  lent  us   dross-  I 

allay'd — 
Sue  for  a  Debt  we  never  did  contract, 

And  cannot  answer — Oh  the  sorry  trade  I 


t 

I 
if 

w!  "  if 

1 .if 


LXXX. 

Oh  Thou,  who  didst  with  pitfall  and  with 

gin 
Beset  the  Eoad  I  was  to  wander  in,  I 

Thou  wilt  not  with  Predestin'd  Evil         ' 
round 
Enmesh,  and   then   impute   my  Fall  to 

Sin  I  y 


BuMiydt. 


If 

IJJI  Oh,  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst         \W 


i 


I 


ho  J^ 

make  I 

ITj  j  And  ev'n  with  Paradise  devise  the  Snake :  I 

For  all  the  Sin  wherewith  the  Face  of  j  A 

I  Man  I 

^j  Is  blacken'd — ^Man's  Forgiveness  give--  jj^ 

li        "'"^"  if 


it 

Lxzxn.  1^ 

^/ j  As  under  cover  of  departing  Day  J  W 

Slunk  hunger-stricken  Ramazdn  away, 


I 


it 

Once  more  within  the  Potter's  house         •  * 

alone  jfli 

stood,  surrounded  by  the  Shapes  of         'Mr 

.  if 


55^1^"'.^'!^S!^*^':^55 


Rubaiyat. 

LXXXIII. 

[jl         Shapes  of  all  Sorts  and  Sizes,  great  and 
small, 
That  stood  along  the  floor  and  by  the 
wall; 
And   some   loquacious  Vessels  were; 
and  some 
Listen'd  perhaps,  but  never  talk'd  at  alL 


LXXXIV. 

Said  one  among  them — ^^  Surely  not  in^ 

vain 
My  substance  of  the  common  Earth  was 

ta'en 
And  to  this  Figure   moulded,  to  be 

broke, 
Or   trampled   back  to   shapeless    Earth 

again." 


84 


1 


i 


««KU*«BH**1 


I    STOOD,    SURROUNDED    BY    THE    SHAPES    OF    CLAY 


K'''^''^^i"^sl^^"'^^*^^"'^^-  -^ 


{•■■Btl 


Rub^iyat. 

^1  LXXXV. 

\|/|  Then  said  a  Second — ^'l^e^er  a  peevish 

^1  Soy 

vTil  Would  break  the  Bowl  from  which  he 

drank  in  joy : 
And  He  that  with  his  hand  the  Vessel 
made 
Will  surely  not  in  after  Wrath  destroy/' 


1) 


LXXXVI. 


yl  After  a  momentary  silence  spake 

Some  Vessel  of  a  more  ungainly  Make ; 

"They   sneer   at  me   for  leaning   all 
awry : 
What !  did  the  Hand  then  of  the  Potter 
shake?'' 


I* 
I 


W 

w 

II 


I 

I 

f) 


s 


Rubdiyit, 

LXXXVII. 

Whereat   some   one    of   the   loquacious 

Lo1>- 
I  think  a  Siifi  pipkin — ^waxing  hot — 

"All  this  of  Pot  and  Potter— Tell  me 
then, 
Who  makes — ^Who  sells — ^Who  buys — 
Who  es  the  Pot  r  24 


Lxxxvin. 

**  Why,"  said  another,  "  Some  there  are 

who  tell 
Of  one  who  threatens  he  will  toss  to  Hell 

The  luckless  Pots  he  marr'd  in  mak- 
ing—Pish ! 
He  's  a  Gk)od  Fellow,  and  't  will  all  be 
weU." 

86 


J  Bub%dt  •     !; 


LXXXIX. 

"Well,"    murmur'd    one,    "Let  whoso 

make  or  buy, 
My  Clay  with  long  Oblivion  is  gone  dry : 

But  fill  me  with  the  old  familiar  Juice, 

Methinks  I  might  recover  by  and  by." 


xa 

So  while  the  Vessels  one  by  one  were 

speaking, 
The  little  Moon  look'd  in  that  all  were 

seeking  :^ 
And    then    they  jogg'd    each    other, 

"  Brother !     Brother ! 
Now  for  the  Porter's   shoulder-knot  a- 

creaking  I" 


87 


f — ---f 

Rubdiydt.  lAj 

^1                                     xoi.  1^ 

Vf/I          Ah,  with  the  Grape  my  fading  Life  pro-  j^ 

M                    vide,  1^ 

\j)|          And  wash  the  Body  whence  the  Life  has  j^ 

rTjj             And  lay  me,  shrouded  in  the  living  ijflj 


f 
i 


ii 


^  I  Lieat,  J  * 

iri'         ^J  ^^^^  ^^*  unfrequented  Garden-side.  \m: 

I 


if 


XCII. 

That  ev'n  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  snare 
Of  Vintage  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air 

As  not  a  True-believer  passing  by  I 

But  shall  be  overtaken  unaware. 


i 


i 


If 

i 


»»Ji^^«K 


MYSELF    WHEN    YOUNG    DID    EAGERLY    FREQUENT    DOCTOR    AND    SAINT 


»5.;c^i« 


A*^ 


'l«3 


>i«; 


Rubdiydt. 

XCIII. 

Indeed  the  Idols  I  have  loved  so  long 

Have  done  my  credit  in  Men^s  eyes  much 
wrong : 

Have   drownM   my   Glory  in  a   shallow 
Cup, 

And  sold  my  Reputation  for  a  Song. 


i 


^y\ 


f! 
i 


xcrv. 
Indeed,  indeed.  Repentance  oft  before 
I  swore — but  was  I  sober  when  I  swore  ? 

And   then   and  then  came  Spring,  and 
Rose-in-hand 
My  threadbare  Penitence  apieces  tore. 


89 


it 

if 


1^ _ .^ 

I 


fi 
11 


xcv. 

And   much   as   Wine   has   play'd   the   In- 
fidel, 
And  robb'd  me  of  my  Robe  of  Honour — 

WeU, 

I  wonder  often  wliat  the  Vintners  buy 
One-half  so  precious  as  the  stuff  they  sell. 


fi 

vT/l  XCYI. 

§1         Yet  Ah,  that   Spring  should   vanish  with 
I  the  Rose! 

fA*  i         That    Youth's    sweet-scented    manuscript 
should  close! 
The   Nightingale   that    in   the   branches 
sang, 
Ah    whence,    and    whither    flown    again, 
who  knows  I 


•  90 


15.«.5^'l'5^i.^gl'^g«'^g'^^g',*^gjJ.5 


Rubaiyat. 


field  ! 


xcvm. 


91 


w 

i,* 

b 


xcvn.  |/(i5 

Would  but  the  Desert  of  the  Fountain 

yield  I 

One   glimpse — if    dimly,    yet    indeed,    re- 
vealed. 
To  which  the  fainting  Traveller  might 

spring,  .  - 

As  springs  the  trampled  "herbage  of  the  j^ 

if 


i 


Would  but  some  winged  Angel  ere  too 

late 
Arrest  the  yet  unfolded  Roll  of  Fate,  | 


9 


9 

1* 

And  make  the   stern  Recorder   other-  1 

wise 
Enregister,  or  quite  obliterate  ! 


i 

if 


Ah   Love!    could    you   and    I    with   Him 

conspire 
To    grasp   this    sorry    Scheme   of    Things 

entire, 
Would  not  we   shatter  it  to  bits — and 

then 
Re-mould  it  nearer  to  the  Heart's  Desire! 


1$ 

i 


c. 

Yon  rising  Moon  that  looks  for  us  again — 

How  oft  hereafter  will  she  wax  and  wane; 

How  oft  hereafter  rising  look  for  us 

Through  this  same   Garden — and   for  one 
in  vain  t 

92 


K<^^' 


•l»; 


I 

i 

II 


EARTH    COULD    NOT    ANSWER;    NOR    THE    SEAS    THAT    MOURN 


Rub4iy4t, 


! 

And   when   like   her,    oh  Sdki,   you    shall  I 

pass  I 

Among  the  Guests  Star-scatter^   on   the  ■ 

Grass.  ! 


tamXm. 


93 


If 


And  in  your   blissful   errand  reach  the  zfT\ 


spot  ^  1^ 

Where     I     made     One — turn     down     an  |i^ 

empty  Glassf  I 

1^^ 


f 

i 


I 
i 

If 

, m 


[I 


•l^S^ff.3»^»l»5lt:^«i!^Sfe::^'l' 


)\< 


KM 


* 

f 

fi 

ti 


/fiv 


NOTES. 


9S 


1 

II 

II 

if 
if 

i 


i 
Ji 


m 


m 

ffJi 
t 

* 
I 


NOTES. 


'  The  "FoZse  Datm";  5^6^i  JST^zift,  a  tran- 
sient Light  on  the  Horizon  about  an  hour 
before  the  Subhi  sddik,  or  True  Dawn;  a 
well-known  Phenomenon  in  the  East. 

'  New  Year.  Beginning  with  the  Vernal 
Equinox,  it  must  be  remembered;  and 
(howsoever  the  old  Solar  Year  is  practically 
superseded  by  the  clumsy  Lunar  Year  that 
dates  from  the  Mohammedan  Hijra)  still 
commemorated  by  a  Festival  that  is  said  to 
have  been  appointed  by  the  very  Jamshyd 
whom  Omar  so  often  talks  of,  and  whose 
yearly  Calendar  he  helped  to  rectify. 

"  The  sudden  approach  and  rapid  advance 
of  the  Spring,"  says  Mr.  Binning,  "  are  very 
striking.  Before  the  Snow  is  well  off  the 
Ground,  the  Trees  burst  into  Blossom,  and 


97 


A  f  the  Flowers  start  from  the  Soil.    At  Nau  •  ^ 

jAj!  Rooz  (their  New  Year's  Day)  the  Snow  was  !« 

Vf/I  lyiiig  ii^  patches  on  the  Hills  and  in  the  |\I/ 

ll\\  shaded  Vallies,  while  the  Fruit-trees  in  the  I /\ 

fTjj  Garden  were  budding  beautifully,  and  p:reen  jfT] 

V;  Plants  and   Flowers    springing    upon    the  !^ 

jA^f  Plains  on  every  side —  I  (A 

j/ 1                 *  And  on  old  Hyems'  Chin  and  icy  Crown  !  a 

^,1                   An  odorous  Chaplet  of  sweet  Summer  buds  IfV' 

ITJI                   Is,  as  in  mockery,  set — ' —  jITl 


^1  Among  the  Plants  newly  appear'd  I  recog-  |i^ 

IT) I  nized  some  Acquaintances  I  had  not  seen  jlT/ 

TT  I  for  many  a  Year :  among  these,  two  varie-  1 3? 

lYjj  ties  of  the  Thistle;  a  coarse  species  of  the  |«r§J 

Vj/I  Daisy,  like  the  Horse-gowan  ;  red  and  white  IMr 

li 


Daisy,  like  the  Horse-gowan  ;  red  and  white  

Clover;   the   Dock;   the  blue  Corn-flower;  !|M 

and  that  vulgar  Herb  the  Dandelion  rearing  |l  Ti 

its  yellow  crest  on  the  Banks  of  the  Water-  j  *• 

courses."     The    Nightingale  was    not    yet  jff^ 

heard,  for  the  Rose  was  not  yet  blown :  but  | 

an  almost  identical  Blackbird  and  Wood-  |^ 

98 

'I 


.1 


Wi^_ . .l^i 


Notee. 

pecker  helped  to  make  up  something  of  a 
Korth-country  Spring, 

■  Exodus  iv.  6 ;  where  Moses  draws  forth 
his  Hand — not,  according  to  the  Persians, 
^^hprous  as  Snow,^^ — but  whitej  as  our  May- 
blossom  in  Spring  perhaps.  According  to 
them  also  the  Healing  Power  of  Jesus  re- 
sided in  his  Breath. 

*  Iram,  planted  by  King  Shadddd,  and 
now  sunk  somewhere  in  the  Sands  of  Ara- 
bia. Jamshyd's  Seven-ring'd  Cup  was  typi- 
cal of  the  7  Heavens,  7  Planets,  7  Seas,  &c., 
and  was  a  Divining  Cup. 

*  Pehlevij  the  old  Heroic  Sanskrit  of  Persia. 
H4fiz  also  speaks  of  the  Nightingale's  P^ 
leifi,  which  did  not  change  with  the  People's. 

*  I  am  not  sure  if  this  refers  to  the  Red 
Rose  looking  sickly,  or  the  Yellow  Rose  that 
ought  to  be  Red ;  Red,  White,  and  Yellow 
Roses  all  common  in  Persia,  I  think 
Southey,  in  his  Common- Place  Book,  quotes 
from  some  Spanish  author  about  Rose  being 


99 


•—■•—■— —•■—'■■  »•———«-«  •••-■•»i»^^ 


iN'otes. 


100 


w 


White  till  10  o'clock;  "Rosa  Perfecta"  at 

2;  and  "perfecta  incarnada  "  at  5.  I/W^ 

•  Rustum,  the  "Hercules  "  of  Persia,  and  |\I/ 
Zdl  his  Father,  whose  exploits  are  among  |  AiA 
the  most  celebrated  in  the  Shah-ndma.  jlTy 
H^tim  Tai,  a  well-known  Type  of  Oriental  •  ^ 
Generosity. 

•  A  Drum — beaten  outside  a  Palace. 

•  That  is,  the  Rose's  Golden  Centre.  iS\ 
"  Persepolis:  oall'd  also  TakhtH  Jamshyd 

• — The  Throne  of  Jamshyd,  "  King  Splen- 
did" of  the  mythical  Peeshdddian  Dynasty, 
and  supposed  (according  to  the  Shdh-nama)         |' 
to  have  been  founded  and  built  by  him:  i , 

Others  refer  it  to  the  Work  of  the  Genie 
King,  J4n  Ibn  J4n — who  also  built   the 


V 

Bahram  Gur — Bahram  of  the  Wild  Ase — a         J' 


Pyramids — before  the  time  of  Adam.  ifift 


Sassanian  Sovereign — had  also  his  Seven         j  ^ 

Castles  (like  the  King  of  Bohemia  I)  each  of 

a  different  Colour :  each  with  a  Royal  Mis- 

kess  within  j   each  of  whom  tells    him  a         |^ 


I' 

if 


i 


«« 


"IS 


m 


IN'otes. 


Story,  as  told  in  one  of  the  most  famous 
Poems  of  Persia,  written  by  Amir  Khusraw  : 
all  these  Sevens  also  figuring  (according  to 
Eastern  Mysticism)  the  Seven  Heavens; 
and  perhaps  the  Book  itself  that  Eighth, 
into  which  the  mystical  Seven  transcend, 
and  within  which  they  revolve.  The  Ruins 
of  Three  of  these  Towers  are  yet  shown  by 
the  Peasantry ;  as  also  the  Swamp  in  which 
Bahrdm  sunk,  like  the  Master  of  Ravens- 
wood,  while  pursuing  his  Gur, 

The  Palace  that  to  Heav'n  his  pillars  threw. 
And  Kings  the  forehead  on  his  threshold  drew — 

I  saw  the  solitary  Ringdove  there, 
And  **Coo    coo,  coo,"  she  cried;  and  "Coo,  coo, 
ooo." 

This  Quatrain  Mr.  Binning  found,  among 
several  of  H4fiz  and  others,  inscribed  by 
some  stray  hand  among  the  ruins  of  Per- 
sepolis.  The  Ringdove's  ancient  P^hlevi  Coo, 
Obo,  Cooy  signifies  also  in  Persian  **  Where  f 


lOI 


I 


I 

i 
I 

I 


S:'«*sfeH.3|^'i«$^!i':S^'i'^|^'i«^^: 


Notes. 

Where?  Where?''  In  Attdr's  "Bird-parlia- 
ment "  she  is  reproved  by  the  Leader  of  the 
Birds  for  sitting  still,  and  for  ever  harping 
on  that  one  note  of  lamentation  for  her  lost 
Ytisuf. 

Apropos  of  Omar's  Red  Roses  in  Stanza 
XIX.,  I  am  reminded  of  an  old  English 
Superstition,  that  our  Anemone  Pulsatilla, 
or  purple  "  Pasque  Flower  "  (which  grows 
plentifully  about  the  Fleam  Dyke,  near 
Cambridge),  grows  only  where  Danish  blood 
has  been  spilt. 

"  A  thousand  years  to  each  Planet. 

"  Saturn,  Lord  of  the  Seventh  Heaven. 

"  Me-and-Thee  :  some  dividual  Exist- 
ence or  Personality  distinct  from  the  Whole. 

"  One  of  the  Persian  Poets — Attdr,  I 
think — has  a  pretty  story  about  this.  A 
thirsty  Traveller  dips  his  hand  into  a  Spring 
of  Water  to  drink  from.  By  and  by  comes 
another  who  draws  up  and  drinks  from  an 
earthen  Bowlj  and  then  departs,  leaving  his 


102 


l^otes. 

Bowl  behind  him.  The  first  Traveller  takes 
it  up  for  another  draught ;  but  is  surprised 
to  find  that  the  same  Water  which  had 
tasted  sweet  from  his  own  hand  tastes  bitter 
from  the  earthen  Bowl.  But  a  Voice — 
from  Heaven,  I  think — tells  him  the  Clay 
from  which  the  Bowl  is  made  was  once 
Man;  and,  into  whatever  shape  renew'd, 
can  never  lose  the  bitter  flavour  of  Mor- 
tality. 

"  The  custom  of  throwing  a  little  Wine  on 
the  ground  before  drinking  still  continues  in 
Persia,  and  perhaps  generally  in  the  East 
Monsieur  Nicolas  considers  it "  un  signe  de 
liberalite,  et  en  m6me  temps  un  avertisse- 
ment  que  le  buveur  doit  vider  sa  coupe 
jusqu'^  la  derni^re  goutte."  Is  it  not  more 
likely  an  ancient  Superstition;  a  Libation 
to  propitiate  Earth,  or  make  her  an  Accom- 
plice in  the  illicit  Revel  ?  Or,  perhaps,  to 
divert  the  Jealous  Eye  by  some  sacrifice  of 
iuperfluity,  as  with  the  Ancients  of   the 

103 


I 
If 

ii 
II 

fi 

I 
I 


58j<^«.^'i'^^'»^l^'i.s^t^^>^j$* 


ITotes. 

West  ?  With  Omar  we  see  something  more 
is  signified ;  the  precious  Liquor  is  not  lost, 
but  sinks  into  the  ground  to  refresh  the 
dust  of  some  poor  Wine-worshipper  fore- 
gone. 

Thus  Hdfiz,  copying  Omar  in  so  many 
ways :  "  When  thou  drinkest  Wine  pour  a 
draught  on  the  ground.  Wherefore  fear  the 
Sin  which  brings  to  another  Gain  ?" 

"  According  to  one  beautiful  Oriental  Le- 
gend, Azrael  accomplishes  his  mission  by 
holding  to  the  nostril  an  Apple  from  the 
Tree  of  Life. 

This,  and  the  two  following  Stanzas  would 
have  been  withdrawn,  as  somewhat  de  trop, 
from  the  Text  but  for  advice  which  I  least 
like  to  disregard. 

"  From  Mdh  to  Mdhi ;  from  Fish  to  Moon. 

*  A  Jest,  of  course,  at  his  Studies.  A 
curious  mathematical  Quatrain  of  Omar's 
has  been  pointed  out  to  me  ;  the  more  curi- 
ous because  almost  exactly  parallePd  by 


104 


I' 


i 


if 

if 
If 


gf<^M 


]g.3jpl^^l;3^'l^gj!^*ggi;gg5>j 


Notes. 

some  Verses  of  Doctor  Donne's,  that  are 
quoted  in  Izaak  Walton's  Lives  I  Here  is 
Omar :  "  You  and  I  are  the  image  of  a  pair 
of  compasses ;  though  we  have  two  heads 
(sc.  our  Jeet)  we  have  one  body ;  when  we 
have  fixed  the  centre  for  our  circle,  we  bring 
our  heads  (sc.  feet)  together  at  the  end." 
Dr.  Donne : 

If  we  be  two,  we  two  are  so 
As  stiff  twin-compasses  are  two ; 

Thy  Soul,  the  fixt  foot,  makes  no  show 
To  move,  but  does  if  the  other  do. 

And  though  thine  in  the  centre  sit, 
Yet  when  my  other  far  does  roam, 

Thine  leans  and  hearkens  after  it. 
And  grows  erect  as  mine  comes  home. 

Such  thou  must  be  to  me,  who  must 
Like  the  other  foot  obliquely  run ; 

Thy  firmness  makes  my  circle  just, 
And  me  to  end  where  I  begin. 

*•  The  Seventy-two  Religions  supposed  to 

105 


•i'^:^'3«$^'I»S 


divide  the  World,  including  Islamism,  as 
some  think :  but  others  not. 

*"  Alluding  to  Sultan  Mahmtid's  Conquest 
of  India  and  its  dark  people. 

"  Fdnud  khiyblf  a  Magic-lanthorn  still 
used  in  India ;  the  cylindrical  Interior  being 
painted  with  various  Figures,  and  so  lightly 
poised  and  ventilated  as  to  revolve  round 
the  lighted  Candle  within. 

*  A  very  mysterious  Line  in  the  Original : 

O  ddnad  O  ddnad  O  dinad  O 

breaking  off  something  like  our  Wood- 
pigeon's  Note,  which  she  is  said  to  take  up 
just  where  she  left  off. 

**  Parwin  and  Mushtari — The  Pleiads  and 
Jupiter. 

'*  This  relation  of  Pot  and  Potter  to  Man 
and  his  Maker  figures  far  and  wide  in  the 
Literature  of  the  World,  from  the  time  of 
the  Hebrew  Prophets  to  the  present ;  when 
it  may  finally  take  the  name  of  "  Pottheism,'* 


io6 


if 

li 

I 
if 

II 

I 
i 
if 

if 

i# 

iW 


^^*r 


^5<4^i'S^''<3^'''^^"'^t^''"^!t:'i'^|^  W5 


«'>t2^:^2^:;2:=i::^^:^^:=:;^i^i.;=K:jft« 


/I 
I 


I 
* 

i 


i 


ITotee. 


i^l  ^y^  which  Mr.  Carlyle  ridiculed  Sterling's 

**  Pantheism."  My  Sheikh,  whose  knowl- 
edge flows  in  from  all  quarters,  writes  to 
me — 

"  Apropos  of  old  Omar's  Pots,  did  I  ever 
tell  you  the  sentence  I  found  in  *  Bishop 
Pearson  on  the  Creed'?"  "Thus  are  we 
wholly  at  the  disposal  of  His  will,  and  our 
present  and  future  condition,  framed  and 

ITJl  ordered  by  His  free,  but  wise  and  just,  de- 

crees. *  Hath  not  the  potter  'power  over  the  clay^ 
of  the  same  lump  to  make  one  vessel  wnio  hon- 
our, cmd  another  unto  dishonour  f  (Rom.  ix, 
21.)    And  can  that  earth-artificer  have  a 

ITJi  freer  power  over  his  brother  potsherd  (both 

^  being  made  of  the  same  metal)  than  God 

hath  over  him,  who,  by  the  strange  fecundity 
of  His  omnipotent  power,  first  made  the 
clay  out  of  nothing,  and  then  him  out  of 
that?" 

And  again — from  a  very  difierent  quarter 
— "  I  had  to  refer  the  other  day  to  Aristo- 


107 


if 


if 

I 

i 
f 
i 


I 


:i'^i^'l'5^l':^^*git:*^i;  W.M 


phanee,  and  came  by  chance  on  a  curious  •  «& 

Speaking-pot  story  in  the  Vespse,  which  I  !« 

had  quite  forgotten.  |\]/ 


Notes.  \&. 


i 


II 


taria^'*  exivov, 

KarvyopoC.    Tatir'  kyb  ftapripo^at, 

♦f,  Olxlvoc  ovv  ix<^  Tiv*  iirefioprlpaTo. 

EI9'  fi  'Svpaplug  elireif^  h  vol  tclv  Kdpav 

TJ^v  fiaprvptav  rairrjv  kdoac,  iv  r&xn  \t^ 

iirtdeafiov  hirpio^  vovv  av  elx^i  jrAetova.  ll T / 

"  The  Pot  calls  a  bystander  to  be  a  witness  |M 

to  his  bad  treatment.    The  woman  says,  *  If,  jlT/ 

by  Proserpine,  instead  of  all  this  ^  testifying  '  '•  ^ 
(comp.  Cuddle  and  his  mother  in  '  Old  Mor- 
tality I')  you  would  buy  yourself  a  trivet,  it 

would  show  more  sense  in    you  I'*      The  |^ 

Scholiast   explains    echinus    as    ^^yoc  n    ix  mVIJ 

xepdfiou.^^  !•  * 

«  At  the  Close  of  the  Fasting  Month,  Ra-  Iffn 

maz4n  (which  makes  the  Musulman  un-  | 
liealthy  and  unamiable),  the  first  Glimpse 

io8 


i 


•^«►^•^; 


:A<Si 


•l«3 


>r»: 


Not€6. 

of  the  New  Moon  (who  rules  their  division 
of  the  Year)  is  looked  for  with  the  utmost 
Anxiety,  and  hailed  with  Acclamation.  Then 
it  is  that  the  Porter's  Knot  may  be  heard — 
toward  the  Cellar.  Omar  has  elsewhere  a 
pretty  Quatrain  about  this  same  Moon — 

*'Be  of  Good  Cheer — the  sullen  Month  will  die, 
And  a  young  Moon  requite  us  by  and  by: 

Look  how  the  Old  one  meagre,  bent  and  wan 
With  Age  and  Fast,  is  fainting  from  the  Sky  I " 


109 


55<^« 


'!•: 


I 
I 


if 

if 


A I  A3 


^ 


